


Talk dirty to me

by boldlygowherenodoghasgonebefore



Series: Service to the state [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Erotica, Fantasy includes underage and blackmail/dubcon, M/M, PWP, Reading Aloud, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 09:06:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16573661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boldlygowherenodoghasgonebefore/pseuds/boldlygowherenodoghasgonebefore
Summary: Garak ties Julian to the bed and just talks to him. For hours. Short PWP.





	Talk dirty to me

Julian was going to kill Garak.  

He’d been tied to the bed for what felt like hours. Arms behind him, legs spread, torso stretched taut so that his body barely touched the bed.  

The perspective was interesting. He didn't often have the time or the inclination to notice his surroundings from this vantage point. The ceiling fan was strangely hypnotic, the lights dimmed to shadows, and, leaning back, he appreciated the softness of the angled leather headboard.  Garak would have preferred something more stylish, but Julian insisted on something that would hug the back of his neck while reading in bed.

Julian was exhausted. After a grueling double shift, Garak was waiting for him with a strong mug of coffee, a warm robe, and a delicious massage that ended with him bound to the bed, eyes closed, breeze tickling his neck.  

He felt more relaxed than he had in months. The anticipation was exquisite. That is, until he felt Garak’s weight shift and the bed lighten. When he’d opened his eyes, Garak was sitting in a chair, gazing out the window, and talking. Just talking.

That voice. Deep and smooth, with just the slightest accent. It felt so good as it washed over him. He could listen to it for hours. Or so he’d thought.  

Garak was sitting casually in an armchair.  The blue robe he wore was one of Julian’s favorites. Silky and smooth, it brought out the color of his eyes, a deep shade of purple in this light. The robe was loosely tied at his waist, and one good tug would-

Julian’s forced his attention back to the present. Garak was droning on about the most mundane aspects of his day. Replicator malfunctions. Long lines in the mess hall. Station gossip. The customer who told the same dreary stories again and again with Garak as a captive audience. Julian could relate.

Occasionally he paused his monologue to stroke Julian’s stomach, softly. So softly. Or Garak would sit on the bed and take a moment to run a hand down his thighs. Then he’d return to the chair, speaking as if nothing had changed.

It was agony. His entire body twitched as Garak continued to narrate his day in the same monotonous voice.  

Julian couldn’t take much more. His body moved at the slightest touch, arched up, strained against his restraints. To his horror, he heard a soft whimper escape his lips. He stilled his body and closed his eyes as Garak returned to telling the most boring stories.

At some point he fell asleep and woke to a sharp tug on his balls. He was so relieved to be touched that the pain barely registered. By the time he regained his equilibrium, Garak had returned to the chair, thumbing through a book, a pensive look on his face. Julian’s gaze followed his hands hungrily, willing them to touch him, finally, just touch him.

Instead, he spoke as if they were having a normal conversation.

“You know, I think we ought to continue our literary theme. I’ve found some Cardassian erotica that I think you might enjoy.”

Donning the reading glasses Julian jokingly called his librarian specs, he flipped through the book for a minute before finding the page he wanted, then looked blandly at Julian.

“How about I read to you for a little while?”

Julian could barely breathe. He stared pleadingly at Garak, who turned back to the book, impassive, and began to read.

Oh, that silky voice. It was no longer dry and crisp but breathy and soft, pausing at the most delicious places to build the anticipation.

Garak moved the chair closer to the bed to get better access to Julian’s body. He watched calmly as Julian’s hands pulled helplessly at the restraints, and leaned over to gently kiss his abdomen, circling his navel with a long, thin tongue. Stroking up and down his left leg, Garak ran a light hand over his groin and then pulled back.

Julian shivered, legs shaking, chest heaving, and cock throbbing. By this point it was so hard he thought he might die if it didn’t get some attention. He squirmed on the bed but couldn’t get traction, and no matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t free his hands.  

“Please,” he whispered, but it was barely audible.  

Garak returned to the book.

Julian tried to focus on the story. A student and his professor. A blackmail story. The student was caught being indiscreet and his instructor was toying with him, clearly intending to inflict punishment and humiliation.

_ Julian closed his eyes and saw a man in a tweed collar, grey sweater-vest, and tight trousers. His hands were light and long fingers idly circled his thigh as he sat in front of Julian, regarding him with interest. _

_ “It seems you were found in the basement of the library having sex after hours. I assume you didn’t realize there were cameras down there?” _

_ There was shock in his eyes as he nodded, gulping hard.   _

_ “It’s customary in these situation to call your parents. You are, after all, only 17.” _

_ A strangled, “No. Don’t tell them. Please.” _

_ The lean man considered this, shaking his head as he spoke. _

_ “When older students do this, we simply send the video to those in their dorms. The humiliation is generally a deterrent. I suppose we could go that route-” _

_ “Oh god, no,” he burst out, then looked down contritely and said softly, “Please. Don’t do that.” _

_ “There must be some punishment. We can’t have this happening again.” _

_ Julian looked down. _

_ “No, sir.”   _

_ The professor ran his hand over Julian’s thigh, making him squirm uncomfortably. _

_ A second later, Julian was bent over his knee, face flushing in humiliation. His instructor put a hand in his underwear and stroked his ass, then pulled the pants down. He kicked his feet in protest, but his body stayed right where it was. It dawned on him that the chosen discipline was an old-fashioned spanking, and he braced himself.   _

_ He screamed at the first blow. Those small hands were stronger than he thought.  The second was just as hard, and the third had his breaths coming in short bursts. He was starting to enjoy the feeling of the hand on his ass, and his cock was growing hard. _

_ After the fourth blow, he felt another hand move under him, cupping the base of his penis and stroking lightly, and he involuntarily let out a groan of pleasure. Once five blows were delivered, the professor stroked his bottom, soothing and whispering reassurances. Julian spied a bottle of lube and felt fingers moving in his ass, stretching and widening and pushing in and out gently. The rhythmic stroking of his cock grew faster and more intense until he- _

_ He moaned loudly. Opening his eyes, the fantasy faded and he saw Garak looking at him inquisitively. _

“Just keep reading,” he rasped.

As Garak read story after story, Julian paid just enough attention to picture the scene in his head, then fantasized to his heart’s content. It did nothing to relieve his frustration, but it was a distraction from the torturous anticipation from Garak’s slow and measured voice reading the most delicious things.

After what seemed like dozens of stories, Garak finally untied him. He was covered in sweat and the air was filled with his scent. Garak’s nose twitched in recognition and pleasure. Julian felt circulation return as his wrists were rubbed gently, and his hands were tender from his attempts to free himself.  

Garak rubbed lotion onto his hands and began to massage the inside of his wrists, his palm, each finger. His heart rate slowed as Garak sat behind him on the bed and Julian leaned against his firm body. Garak rocked him back and forth slowly until his eyes closed and body stilled. The silence was bliss.

Julian felt Garak’s hands move around him to stroke his stomach, then down to his thighs, and the sensation elicited a low moan. He leaned down to whisper in Julian’s ear and he shivered.

“Which one should we do?”

_ What? _ He was confused for a moment, then it hit him. Which of the erotic stories did he want to play out? Julian’s head was swimming; it was like he’d been dieting for a month and someone set him loose in a candy store. It didn’t help that Garak was now stroking his neck, pressing his lips against the most tender spots. He wanted everything all at once; he couldn’t decide and he didn’t care. He just wanted Garak’s burly hands all over his body.  

Finally, he managed a reply.

“The last one.”

“Really?  It was so short. Don’t you want to prolong the anticipation?”

There was a twinkle in his eye and Julian stared at him incredulously until they both burst into laughter.  

He wrapped his hands around Garak’s head and pulled him down, and finally, finally, the talking was over.

When he finally regained his senses, his head was resting on Garak’s chest, listening to the rumble of satisfaction, tail wrapped around both their legs. Garak had ridden him so hard his cock was sore and throbbing, and the release felt so good, so intense, he thought he could go all night. As it turned out, they’d played out quite a few of the stories before running out of steam.   

Julian broke the silence.

“I can’t believe you put me through all that. You’re impossible.”

Garak smiled and closed his eyes.

“I love you. Sleep well.”

Julian snuggled into the crook of Garak’s arms and murmured sleepily, “you too.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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